


give us ((colorful)) shades of grey

by bartholomewrose



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: COUNTER/Weight Spoilers, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-02-22 10:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13164702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bartholomewrose/pseuds/bartholomewrose
Summary: "Hey, Mako.""...Are we friends?"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [citadelofswords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/citadelofswords/gifts).



> ...so it's not ROMANTIC mako/larry but listen they're getting there okay
> 
> prompt was "i don’t know what the fuck true love even is but i do want to hang out with you for basically the rest of my life. (let’s hang out - TO THE DEATH)" from here http://www.asofterworld.com/index.php?id=1113
> 
> title from variations on a cloud by miracle musical, aka the Most mako/larry song

“Hey, Mako.”

“Yeah, Larry?”

They’re sitting on Mako’s bed and leaning into each other, Larry trying to decide on a new show to watch and Mako halfway down a rabbit hole of wiki pages on old earth astrology. The site lets you put in a birth date and planet, and gives the approximate Earth equivalent, which is how Mako figures out that his constellation is a “crab,” which is apparently some weird orange pinchy thing. He thinks it’s pretty cool, all things considered, since there aren’t any shark ones anyway.

...Listen, deep space travel is boring as hell, and if he doesn’t distract himself he’s gonna start thinking about how he’s going back to September, because why the  _ fuck _ did he agree to go back to September - and that sucks a whole lot, so. Shut up.

Larry shifts next to him, tense, and doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Are we friends?” he finally asks.

Well, Mako sure wasn’t expecting that question. He twists around to raise an eyebrow. “Dude, we hang out literally all the time. We’re hanging out  _ right now _ .” He gestures exaggeratedly - to the two displays hanging in the air, to where their shoulders are pressed together. “That’s like, what being friends  _ is _ .”

“Oh,” Larry says, small and surprised. He’s still staring in the direction of his list of old TV shows, not looking at Mako as he speaks. “I wasn’t sure if - if it counted? Because I’m not… it’s not really a choice, for you. We’re just both here, together, all the time.”

Mako shrugs. Sure, maybe he didn’t  _ decide _ to spend every waking moment with a mesh-clone of himself in the back of his head, but the company is still nice, mostly. He’s about to say something to that effect when Larry makes a noise like “oh” and pauses with a little crease between his brows. “... And that’s… we’ll be here, together, sort of… forever, probably? Huh.”

Oh, right. That weird thought. Mako kind of came to that conclusion like a week ago, and took a second to let it sink in; and then he got both overwhelmed, trying to consider his own future, and distracted, thinking about other weird shit that’s happened in the mesh. So he didn’t really get very far with it.

But, uhhh, he probably should have, because now Larry’s finally looked over, waiting for him to say something, and he seems kind of nervous about it so wow wouldn’t it be great if Mako  _ had  _ something good and also not shitty to say -

“Yeah, that kind of sucks, right?”

Wow, nope. Bad. Terrible.

The comforting pressure at Mako’s side disappears, and he glances up to see Larry, pulled away, looking for all the world like every one of his worst fears have just been confirmed.

Mako backpedals real quick. “I mean for you! No, hang on, that’s also bad, I mean like - aren’t you totally sick of me yet?” It’s been a week and a half, and neither of them have quite figured out how to leave each other alone, so there’s no way that Larry isn’t annoyed as hell and done with the whole -

Larry blinks. “No.”

“Oh.” That’s a new one. Usually the answer is “yes,” no matter if the person he’s asking actually says so or not.

“I kind of figured you’d be sick of  _ me _ , actually,” Larry confesses, and wait a second, no, this is actually hilarious. This is a sitcom episode. They’re practically the same person, asking practically the same questions, and Larry just said such a predictable, cliche sentence in the middle of a predictable, cliche misunderstanding that Mako bursts out laughing.

“Oh, my god,” he says. “We’re even worrying about the same shit, that’s -” He snorts. “Nah, you’re good. It’s good. You’re pretty cool, actually, when you aren’t, you know, actively trying to get me killed.”

“Okay, listen,” Larry argues, but he’s smiling now, relaxed. “I got excited, alright, lots of new stuff at once, gotta test those limits, gotta spread my wings, can you really blame me -”

“I super can -”

“ - but, um.” He settles back into Mako’s side, and it’s definitely just the physical contact that makes something in Mako’s chest unknot itself. “I’m glad you’re not sick of me yet? Cause I don’t think I can  _ not _ be here. Even if we both wanted me to go. And I don’t. Want to go, I mean.”

Mako smiles, and if it’s a little softer around the edges than usual, well, then, Larry’s not looking at his face right now, it’s fine. “I don’t want you to leave either,” he says, and his smile sharpens again. “Cause honestly, you’re the only other person around here with a fucking clue when it comes to doing anything  _ interesting _ with the mesh.” He puts on a long-suffering face, turns to make sure Larry sees it. “I was dying. Slowly.”

“See!” Larry says. “I’m  _ so _ helpful. Times I have saved your life so far: one. Totally cancels out the ‘throwing ICE at your face’ thing.” He turns back to his display, as if he’s won that debate.

...Fuck, he kind of did win that debate.

“Yeah, okay,” Mako concedes, “let’s make that a few more times in the positive and I will  _ generously consider _ forgetting all about it.” He leans his head on Larry’s shoulder.

Privately, he checks off another box in his brand-new “cool stuff about Larry” list: ‘ _ also v tactile?? lets me use him as a pillow?? hell yes new cuddle buddy???? _ ’

Outwardly, he hums in thought. “So, neither of us actually secretly hate each other.”

“Nope, guess not.” Larry’s gone back to scrolling through old shows, and Mako helpfully saves  _ Buffy the Vampire Slayer _ to his queue. Chime initiation is serious business.

“And we’re together  _ all  _ the time,” he continues, “and it’s not awful, and we would probably hang out anyway even if we didn’t literally have to.”

“Mm.” Larry’s distracted now, so Mako nudges him with a grin. He’ll want to hear this bit.

“Then guess what? We’re friends."


	2. and i'll go anywhere but there

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [RIGOURRIGOURRIGOURRIGOURRIGOURRIGOURRIGOURRIGOUR]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter warning for descriptions of violence (psychic damage is bad for you)
> 
> chapter title from "leave a trace" by chvrches

After a lifetime of ideas that sound good on paper and then work out horribly in practice, Mako should have expected that this would go very, very wrong.

It’s just that it seemed to make so much _sense_ when he worked it out in his head. Rigour is fucking enormous, sure, and terrifying enough to scare even AuDy, but it’s still just a Divine, right? Or, okay, “just a Divine” sounds maybe too cocky. It’s still basically in the same category as Order, is what he really means, and while that whole situation definitely could have gone better, like, he still _got_ it.

Plus it’s not like he has a mech or anything? He’s not Aria, the bonafide second coming of Jace Rethal; and he’s not Cass, currently fighting with an entire empire at their back; and he’s certainly not AuDy, a sentient robot plus a few Divines in one metaphorical trenchcoat flying a huge fuck-off spaceship. He’s just some dumb clone with a dumb stolen hoverboard and a dumb weird brain, and this is all he’s got.

And that is how Mako ends up clinging to the shoulder of the biggest goddamn robot he’s ever seen in his entire goddamn life, and making the astoundingly bad decision to try and fog it.

Cass managed to blast a hole in its chest a second ago, but it's already healing up with some of those gross muscle-y wires running through it. Terrible to look at, first of all, and  _completely_ unfair. Mako's not letting it get away with that shit.

He takes a breath, makes sure his footholds are as secure as they're gonna get, and turns to Larry. "Hey, you better keep up with-"

Larry's not there.

Mako falters, staring into empty air for a second before he remembers the whole clone-saving business. Right. Larry must still be busy with that. Huh. Mako wasn't really planning to go it alone for this one.

But he'll have to, if he wants to be any help at all - Rigour takes a swipe at Aria, and the movement almost sends him flying. Fog now, or lose the chance. And hey, it'll be fine! He's got this. It's just weird how fast he got used to having backup, that's all.

Anyway. One more steadying breath. The wind almost steals it, whipping against his face - but he's in.

Several things become clear very quickly.

First, the internal landscape of Rigour is pitch black. Mako rubs at his eyes, blinking rapidly, but even after several seconds he can't see a thing. That's kind of creepy. And then he notices something else, reaching out blindly into the dark - and the dark gets way creepier.

There's... there's a  _lot_ in here. This thing is apparently complex to the point of being sort of impossible? Because as far as he can tell, there's no edge. It just goes on, and on, and on, and there's no center, no signposts, no indication whatsoever of where he should start. And so, instinctively, he reaches for a light.

The third thing that Mako learns about Rigour - and the holder of the prestigious trophy for Absolute Worst Thing That's Happened Today - is that doing  _literally anything_ to it hurts really, really bad.

Fogging headaches are one thing. The dull ache of overextending himself is something that Mako's felt time and time again, and also something he generally manages to ignore.  _This_ nearly knocks him off his feet, the spike of pain driving relentlessly into the side of his head.

(There's a part of his mind still seeing through his own eyes, and Mako distantly watches himself jerk in shock, his knuckles white where he grips at the plating of Rigour's shoulder. He gets the idea that maybe he underestimated the scale, here.)

The light isn't even that great. It hums to life quickly enough - set into a ceiling that may or may not actually exist - but it's also dim, and flickering, and practically useless, because why not.

But fuck it. He's already  _in_ this shit, may as well do something useful - so he grits his teeth, grabs at the first important-looking thing he finds, and shuts down what turns out to be the self-repair protocols. So he  _did_ jack in at the right place. First convenient thing that's happened all day.

Or, maybe not so much. It doesn't take, not completely. There must be something he's missing, or... or something in the way?

( _Gotta get closer_ , he thinks, hazy, and uncurls his stiff hands to turn towards the slow-shrinking hole below him. Man, this is gonna suck.

Mako shoves himself between two cables, and the low hum that surrounds him swells for a moment as he disappears into the body of Rigour.)

Things get sort of blurry after that.

It's still hard to find anything, and his light goes out at some point, and the pain in his head starts crawling, inch by inch, down the back of his neck.

(Faintly, Mako recognizes that the physical interior of Rigour is dark in a completely different way, grey and cold and claustrophobic. He thinks he sees a face, though, in the middle of it all - who the hell else was dumb enough to climb in here? - and the face is blank, and strangely familiar, like something out of a dream. But no, that can't be... Natalya?

He's yanked away in a flash, and she's gone.)

It's hacking him back, he realizes belatedly, as he slams a fist through a couple of its stabilizers. He didn't know that could happen. That shouldn't be able to happen, right?

It clearly is happening, though, and Mako should probably be worried about that, but he can't bring himself to care when if he just pushes a little harder, holds on just a little bit longer, he can totally figure this whole thing out and everything will be  _fine_ -

"Okay, I'm back!"

Mako stops short, and sags in relief as he recognizes Larry's voice cutting through the low humming in the background. ...When did that get louder? That's weird.

There's still no light, and yet Larry flickers into clear view anyway, still talking without a care in the world. "Everything's fine, I got the -" He finally takes in their surroundings, and cuts off with a yelp. "...What are you  _doing_?"

"Helping," Mako grits out - he's not sure if he says it in his head or out loud, but it's not like it matters - and tears at another one of Rigour's processes at random. (A tendon in one of its fingers twitches, once, then goes still.)

Larry looks around nervously, and there’s an edge of panic to his words when he says, “Yep, well, that’s not going so good, though. Can we - can we please go now?”

Mako’s reeling a little from the backlash of that last hack, and there’s a long pause while he tries to process the question. “Uh…”

He’s only about halfway there when Larry grabs him by the shoulders, grip too tight but hands unexpectedly warm. “Hel- _lo_ , Mako,” he says, and though his voice lilts playfully, his eyes are wide and desperate. “It’s not working, okay? It’s time to go.”

Mako blinks. Wow, Larry looks kind of scared. Why’s he scared? He’ll be fine even if Mako screws this up, probably.

Larry shakes him. “ _Hey_. Can you even hear me - Mako, you have to stop.”

Mako’s still having a hard time with words, but _stop_ , he gets, and uh, no. He shakes his head once, sharply. No, he has to do something. He has to at least hurt this thing. Sure, it’s gonna hurt him right back, but he can stand it for another minute, can’t he? That’s as long as it’ll take, definitely. Just one more minute.

(The humming is so loud.)

Larry swears under his breath. “Okay,” he says, resigned, and lets go to pat Mako’s shoulder. “Okay. You’re gonna owe _me_ after this one.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “Can’t believe I’m doing this,” he mutters, and slips into Mako’s connection.

“What…” Mako snaps out of it just in time to totally not stop him. “No, don’t -”

Larry isn’t about to break his Not Listening To Mako streak, though; in the space of a blink, he flicks from one layer of Mako’s vision to the other.

For two whole seconds, he's fine. He opens one eye, then the other, says, "Huh," and reaches for Mako's arm with a half-formed grin.

Then Rigour finds him, and he pitches forward with a cry as it starts in on him, too.

Damn it.

Reflexively, Mako’s arms come up to catch him, but the floor in here is more of an ephemeral idea than anything else, and they end up just sort of clinging to each other in a weird void. Getting hacked. In the dark. Great. Cool. Where, exactly, is Larry going with this?

“Hey,” Mako starts.

Larry makes some noise of recognition from where he’s pressed his head into Mako’s shoulder while he pulls himself together.

“Why would you -” Mako cuts off as the sharpness that’s been steadily working its way down his spine finally reaches the center of his chest.

There’s a horrible sense of finality as Rigour latches onto his heart, and Mako sucks in a breath, unsteady and hollow. That’s… not good.

Then it  _ pulls _ .

Mako screams.

 

The floor’s decided to be a floor again for now, which Mako knows because he’s on it, cheek pressing against something cold as another scream tears from his throat because a Divine just  _ ripped his heart out. _

“----!”

Larry’s saying something, and Mako would love to know what it is, honestly, but he’s kind of busy trying to breathe, so, give him a second.

... This is bad. This is  _so_ bad. Why is he still here? He shouldn't still be here. He tries to pull back, to get the hell out of this system - because it's only in his head. His pulse is roaring in his ears, his heart is racing, and his body is fine. He just needs to... to...  _focus_ , but -

“ - so just hold on, okay,” comes Larry’s voice in his ear.

_ I’m trying, thanks _ , Mako wants to yell at him; but then there’s an arm around his waist, and a hand to the back of his head, and Larry is pressing him so close it’s like he’s trying to disappear into him again.

Oh. He meant “hold on” like… literally. Mako doesn’t have the energy to ask what good that’s gonna do, so sure. Why not. He manages to make a fist in the fabric of Larry’s shirt.

“Good enough,” Larry says, and Mako chokes in surprise as he’s wrenched into a forced log-off, hanging on to Larry for dear life.

This should not work. It shouldn’t work even under the  _ best  _ of circumstances, and these are pretty damn close to the worst. Strati just aren’t connected like that, they shouldn’t be able to… fogging doesn’t use the  _ buddy system _ .

But Larry does, apparently, because it works anyway. It’s a whole lot slower than usual, and feeling the connection close down in tiny increments is _so_ disorienting, but it works . He’s gonna get out.

Rigour has other ideas, though. It's not letting go. There's a moment where Mako is yanked in two directions at once, caught between it and Larry; and Rigour is so endlessly persistent that he's almost ripped away.

_ No, _ he thinks, defiant. His fist tightens its hold, and the arm around his waist holds firm, and finally, Rigour is the one that slips.

It roars in fury into Mako's head, but he laughs in its face - and the connection closes.

It’s over. The pain is gone. His heart is pounding, his head is spinning, and he’s alive.

(The humming is so faint that he can almost pretend it’s not there.)

Mako goes limp in relief, and blinks. There's light, now, that's good - but it's also a little blinding, and he has to squint against it - and he's standing? There is sky above him, Ring of Saturn below, and up ahead he can see the Kingdom Come drawing closer. Okay, definitely lost some time there. But where is…?

“Hey,” Mako hears himself say, and oh, that’s where Larry went. That’s still super weird.

“I know we said no more body snatching,” Larry says with Mako’s mouth, “but you weren’t moving, and I swear I’ll give it back as soon as we -”

“No, ‘s okay,” Mako mumbles, cutting off.... himself? Because it is fine. He definitely would have fallen off the Saturn if Larry hadn't taken over, and honestly, at this point he just doesn’t care. After all that, Larry can pretty much do whatever he wants. Mako trusts him.

“Hey, I… thanks…” Mako trails off.  _ For coming back, for your help, for getting me out, for saving my life _ \- the words all stick in his throat. “Thanks for…”

His vision lists precariously to the left, and he vividly recalls the bullet still lodged in his side, and what he ends up saying is, “Uh. Think ‘m gonna pass out now.”

The black, this time, is almost a comfort.

 

 

He wakes up again to Cass, somehow more tired than usual and trying to apologize about not fixing him up sooner; to Aria, practically vibrating with too many concerns; to AuDy, just… gone. (Orth and Jacqui stop by, too; but Jacqui doesn’t like hospitals, even very small ones, and Orth can’t seem to look Mako in the eyes, so. Neither of them stay long.)

He learns that Ted and Maxine and several of his clones are safe; he learns that Tower and Maritime and the rest of September are not. ( _Paisley is..._ Aria says, and shakes her head. _He’s… alive? Let’s not talk about Paisley_.)

He goes over everything he knows, now, and everything he thought he knew, then, and makes a concerted effort not to deal with any of it.

Despite what he thinks is a pretty good poker face, though, Aria speaks too gently to him, and squeezes his hand on her way out of the room. And Cass...

“This doesn’t change anything, you know,” they say, still sitting on the edge of his bed. They reach out and brush the hair off of his forehead. Oh, hell.

“What doesn’t change anything?” Mako asks, perfectly innocent, and panics. _Don’t do this to me, Cass_ , he thinks. He absolutely can’t have this conversation right now. If he does, he’s going to start crying, and then he’ll get angry at himself for crying, and Cass will have that awful sad smile that they get when he does that, and they’ll swear it isn’t pitying but Mako will know that it kind of is, and they’ll both just feel even worse about it all -

Cass gets it. Of course they do. “...Nothing,” they say with a tired smile. (Mako doesn’t like that one very much, either. But Cass is always tired. Better that than sad.)

“Sorry,” he says, and picks their hand up off his head to press it to his cheek. He’s not completely sure what he’s apologizing for, but it feels like he should? Something about that was right, anyway, because some of the lines around Cass’s eyes go away for a second.

“It’s fine,” they sigh. “Go back to sleep, Mako.” They get up to leave, and give him one last look before they go. “I’ll be back soon. Just… let me know if you need anything.”

“You bet, Doc.” Mako shoots them a grin as they roll their eyes at the nickname and walk out the door. As soon as they’re gone, though, he closes his eyes, presses his hands to his face, and tries very hard not to think of anything at all.

A minute passes like that, with questionable success, and then somebody pokes him in the ribs. His very bruised ribs, mind you.

“ _Ow_ ,” Mako says, pointedly.

“Sorry,” says Larry, and Mako opens his eyes to see him sitting where Cass had just been, curled up knees-to-chest. “You okay?”

Mako rolls his eyes. “Ugh, not you, too. I’m _fine_.” He’d thought Larry, of all people, would leave it alone.

But he was super wrong about that, apparently, because Larry looks at him skeptically. “Uh-huh.”

“I am!”

The look he gets this time is absolutely withering. It’s along the lines of _I just watched you get beat up by a robot god and I’m literally in your head, dude, don’t try to bullshit me_. Or something.

“Jeez, fine, I’m not like, _great_.” And that’s as far as he’s willing to go. “Can we not?”

Larry wavers. “Yeah, okay." Mako relaxes for like half a second, and then, "Just… just don’t do that again.”

AUGH.

“Do _what_?" Mako's being whiny, and he knows it, and he's absolutely not going to do anything about it. Listen, he's having a bad day, he's allowed to be slightly more of an asshole than usual. That's definitely how that works.

He still feels a little bad, though. And that's just completely unfair.

The feeling-bad is also not helped at all when Larry glances away, pulling his legs in closer. "...Don't fog stuff like that without me," he mumbles.

At that, Mako's hit with some kind of emotion like a punch in the gut. He could probably name it, if he really wanted to, but he just... he can't. Not right now. So instead, he gives Larry the same wide, fake as hell smile he gave Cass, and wills him to understand. “Oh, that? I can do that. Don't even worry about it.”

"Thanks," Larry says softly, stealing one more moment of sincerity. Then, finally, he takes pity on Mako, and shifts tones in a flash. “Anyway! More importantly, I _actually_ saved your life this time, and now we’re even.”

“Oh, we’re so even,” Mako picks up the new topic gratefully, “we’re _so_ even. Definitely _even_ , though, I do not owe you. Which is good, because I have no idea what could possibly happen that I would have to save your life.”

“Yeah,” Larry wheedles, “but, I saved, like, eight of you, though. I feel like that should count for more.”

“Take it up with them, maybe,” Mako snorts. He also flinches, like, the tiniest bit, at the mention of his clones, and of _course_ Larry would pick up on it.

“Oh.” Larry leans in conspiratorially. “Listen, don’t worry about that, it’ll be just like having more of me, kind of. Right?”

Mako laughs again - a real, full laugh, and he doesn’t even care that his chest is still sore. “I don’t think anyone could be just like you. Even them.”

Larry raises an eyebrow, clearly holding back a smug grin, and waits.

“...Wait a second,” Mako says, and Larry cracks up laughing. “Oh my god, shut up, I can’t believe you just - you just reverse psychology-ed me into admitting I’m my own person, you’re the worst!”

“Learned from the best,” Larry grins. “And hey, now that we’ve got that settled, maybe go back to sleep, like the _doctor_ said.” He pokes him again.

God, brainclones suck. Mako can’t believe Larry would betray him like this. “The _worst_ ,” he says again, exasperated this time. But he also yawns two seconds later, so he closes his eyes anyway with an extremely dramatic sigh.

It’s… actually a whole lot easier to clear his head this time. The med cot is passably comfortable, after he shuffles around a bit; and he’s still sort of pleasantly fuzzy from whatever painkiller Cass gave him. Larry even sticks around for a while, for some reason. Which definitely has nothing to do with the fact that Mako finally manages to relax, because he wasn’t _lonely_ , that would be dumb. But he does fall asleep in minutes, warm and cozy and safe, so… fine, maybe he wasn’t _not_ lonely, either.

 

 

Cass comes back twenty minutes later, showered, dressed, hair properly braided (and the Apokine now in somewhat less of an undignified heap where they’ve docked it at the hangar). They reclaim their seat on the bed, glad to see Mako actually sleeping; and if the extra blanket from across the room has mysteriously appeared tucked carefully under his chin, well. They’re not going to question it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been trying to write this since the beginning of january and it's still Way Too Much probably but just TAKE IT

**Author's Note:**

> heyyy so i didn't do secret samol this year bc too much pressure BUT this is basically a late christmas / VERY late hanukkah gift for kales, thank u for the prompts and for sending me deeper into mako/larry hell every single day of my life
> 
> and happy holidays <3


End file.
